journaling adventures in ministry…

The Streets of Chicago

I spent a wonderful 36 hours in Chicago last weekend. I hadn’t seen my son since Christmas; he’s started a new job and hasn’t had much time off. It was great to reconnect with him and his girlfriend, see his workplace and meet some of his coworkers. My daughter Anne and I had fun walking the Miracle Mile (plus a little shopping, naturally), taking our pictures by the Bean, and doing a walking food and architecture tour of one of Chicago’s neighborhoods. Another highlight was eating in a restaurant where the executive chef is a young man who was a part of the youth group at Lakewood Congregational Church when I was the associate minister there. His food was beyond fabulous, and it was delightful to see him again.

As Anne and I were strolling Michigan Avenue the first day, we both commented on how much we enjoy just walking and people-watching in big cities. You see people dressed to the nines, looking and sounding very important as you overhear their cell phone conversations. You see tourists, loaded down with shopping bags. You hear different languages being spoken on the streets of a bustling, lively city like Chicago.

On one stretch of the avenue, we watched a woman walking towards us. Her clothes were mismatched and ill-fitting. Her eyes darted from one direction to the next. She crossed the sidewalk ahead of us, turned slightly to her left, and then relieved herself in the street, next to a five-star hotel. Just like that, our people-watching felt like voyeurism and for the next few minutes we walked silently, suddenly aware of all of the signs on the front entrances of Starbucks and other establishments which said, “Restroom Use for Patrons Only”.

It’s so easy for me to criticize the 1%, the ultra-wealthy. I want to blame the gap between the rich and the poor on economists and politicians. But for a while on that Friday afternoon, all I felt was sadness. The gap was between me and another human being. Not everyone can stroll the streets of our cities with comfort and dignity.

Hi Kelly, When we were in New Zealand, we saw public free restrooms in cities. These small individual restrooms looked similar to large porta potties in that the buildings were manufactured. They had flush toilets, toilet paper, soap, hot water in the sinks, and locks on the doors with electronic timers. My brother said the timer was so that homeless people would not use them for shelter, and they would be kept free for their intended purpose. He said Washington D.C. has some.
Jane Traster

I consider myself tremendously lucky and blessed:
to be the Senior Minister of the Avon Lake United Church of Christ, a congregation of lively, caring, faithful and fun people..."a church for people who like to think for themselves"...
to be the wife of Doug, the mother of Michael and Anne, the stepmother of Lyndsay, Nick and Brad.
A few of my favorite things: coffee, NPR, Scrabble, good conversations over good food, reading, movies, theater, spending time outside in the warm weather, traveling to new places, and anyone or anything that makes me laugh...